


out of step

by cherrytreebridge



Series: marching band au [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, general band kid silliness, im the QUEEN OF MARCHING BAND AUS, yams pov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:26:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrytreebridge/pseuds/cherrytreebridge
Summary: “What did you think?” asked a mello, the same one he’d asked earlier. Yamaguchi looked over his shoulder to see they had a friendly smile.He smirked as he took apart his mello and set it back gently in its case. “Pretty wild,” he admitted. In any other circumstances, the idea of being totally unaware of what he was doing, just barely keeping up with the others, out of the loop, would’ve made him describe the experience with words like terrifying and nerve-racking. Instead, Yamaguchi turned to the upperclassman and with full confidence, said “I loved it.”Yamaguchi Tadashi is a freshman starting his first year in Karasuno High School's marching band, and he couldn't be more excited. He loves the people, the music, the atmosphere, and most of all he loves that he fits perfectly into it.The only problem? After years of avoiding the spotlight, he's suddenly thrown into it - and he's trying not to break under pressure.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi, background Daisuga - Relationship, background asanoya, others tagged as they happen
Series: marching band au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1831198
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	1. Thursday, July 28th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for my sister and the year of high school band we spent together
> 
> i love marching band. i'm going on my eighth year of it, and i really don't know how to explain how important it's been to me. a lot of this fic comes from my own life and experiences, and i hope that makes it genuine. whether you've marched, play an instrument, or neither, i hope you enjoy! at the end of the day, band is about family.
> 
> (just as a note, this is pretty americanized, because a) marching band and football seasonn is a us thing, and b) i am american and this is what i know. it's not too important! just pretend all the high schools are in the same generic city together. shh. it's fine)

Yamaguchi Tadashi is not afraid of high school.

He is afraid of a lot of things. Thunderstorms. The dark. Failing a class. Not making band. Being bullied. But he’s not afraid of high school. 

His mom pulls up to the curb and he gives her a quick goodbye, gathering his things - mello case, lyre, folder, music, water - haphazardly in his arms as he exits the car. 

“Sure you have everything?” his mom asks, a teasing lilt to her voice. 

“Yeah,” he replies, ducking down to talk to her through the window.

“I’ll see you in a few hours. Love you!”

“Sounds good. Love you too.”

As she drives off, he curses himself, because maybe he left his _stomach_ in the car. 

No matter. He makes his way towards the building, his steps calculated to look more confident than he actually felt, and puts on a smile as he reaches to open the door. It swings towards him before he even reaches the handle, and he jumps to avoid getting hit in the face. A energetic boy in a beanie streaks out the door with a wicked grin on his face, car keys swinging on his fingers. A slightly taller boy, much calmer, with neat black hair pulled in a middle part, follows him at a much more reasonable pace. 

“Tanaka, slow down, please,” calls the dark-haired boy. 

The other boy - Tanaka, Yamaguchi assumes - turns around to stick his tongue out at his follower. “What’s the fun in that, Ennoshita? You gonna keep Daichi waiting?”

Not even three steps in and already he’s being bombarded by names he knows he won’t remember. With both Tanaka and Ennoshita safely away from him, he makes a second try at the door.

Inside is more hectic than he could’ve expected. Kids are leaning up against the walls of the hallway, some chatting away with each other comfortably, others nervously looking around. It’s fairly easy to tell who’s a newcomer and who’s a returning member. Instrument cases of all shapes and sizes sit everywhere on the floor, stacked up among brightly colored water jugs and folders of music. And at the end of the hall, looking bored as ever, is a familiar set of glasses and blonde hair. 

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi smiles, pushing his way towards the crowd towards his old friend. “So you decided to try out after all!”

Tsukishima Kei greets him with a tilt of his head and shrugs. His trombone is standing up beside him, his hand lightly on top of it - he’s far too tall to rest his arm on the case. “Something to do. I don’t think I’m going to stick with basketball.”

Yamaguchi nods, understanding. He saw this coming. Tsukki is good, but he never really connected with the sport. Or with band, for that matter, but if he’s here it means Yamaguchi can spend time with him, and that’s really all he wants. 

“Go get your nametag,” Tsukishima prompts, jerking his head towards the door of the band room. Just outside it, a small folding table is set up with sharpies and stickers. Yamaguchi walks over to find a girl sitting at the table, her name tag identifying her as _Kiyoko_. 

“Write whatever name you’re most comfortable with,” she prompts kindly, before passing him a clipboard. “And also check off that you’re here on the attendance sheet.”

Yamaguchi does so, sticking the name on his chest. He thanks Kiyoko and turns away from her shyly, making his way back to Tsukishima. 

He finds a spot next to his friend on the wall, but before he even gets a chance to set down his mello the both of them are bombarded by two other band kids. One is the beanie kid from before, and the other is a boy who looks about the same age but barely reaches his shoulders, and his hair is spiked up with a tuft bleached in the front. 

“HEY! Welcome to the band!” they both practically shout, and Yamaguchi can’t help but smile. 

“I’m Tanaka Ryuunosuke,” Tanaka introduces himself. 

“And I’m Nishinoya Yuu, but call me Noya!” the other proclaims, sticking a thumb in his chest. “We’re your upperclassmen! So if you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Yamaguchi stutters a, “T-thanks,” but they’re practically already gone, on to the next set of freshmen. He can’t help but admit that their energy is contagious. 

After a few more minutes of silence, everyone in the hall is ushered inside. It’s a tight fit through the single door, but they all make it into the band room, taking seats on the floor. Even with instrument cases still outside, they’re all squished together in the tight space. Yamaguchi takes a seat in the middle-back, near Tsukki.

At the front of the room, four people are standing, all dressed in exercise clothes like the rest of them. One, a man who looks to be in his late twenties, with a slightly shy smile behind his glasses, steps forward. “Welcome to marching band, everyone! Returning members, it’s good to see you again. Newcomers, we’re happy to have you! My name is Mr. Takeda, and I’m the director of the band here at Karasuno High School. I’m very glad to see so many faces, and I hope that we can work together to make the most productive and enjoyable season possible for all of you. But - I can’t do it alone. I’ll let the other members of leadership introduce themselves!”

The man standing next to Mr. Takeda steps forward with a nod. He looks to be about the same age, dressed in a bright yellow shirt to match his bleached hair. “I’m Ukai Keishin, but you all can just call me Ukai. Mr. Takeda is most skilled with the musicality of marching band, and I’m here to help you with the drill. We also have two amazing drum majors to lead you both this season...” And with that, the last two of the group step up.

“I’m Sugawara Koushi!” says the first, with hands on his hips and a beaming smile. “Call me Suga! I’m one of your drum majors this season!”

_“Whaddaya play?!”_ comes a call from the audience, and the group laughs. 

“I play the flute!” Suga yells back, to a chorus of _woo!_ from his sectionmates.

The other drum major, a much more stern looking boy with a black track jacket over his band t-shirt, picks up where Suga left off. “I’m Sawamura Daichi, I’m your other drum major this season.” Once again he is heckled with a _“Whaddaya play?!”_ and a _woo!_ when he answers, “I play tuba!”

“There’s also a section leader for each instrument, and you’ll all meet them when we break out into groups,” Suga explains. “First we’ll be doing some icebreakers between sections, your section leaders will pass out some music, and then we’ll come back for a full band warm up.”

Daichi pulls up a piece of paper and starts listing off where different sections are meeting. A few people - the section leaders, maybe - are holding their instruments up in the air for others to find them, and Yamaguchi spots the mellophone and follows it outside to the covered entryway just outside the building. It’s starting to cool off now that the sun is going down, and he’s plenty comfortable finding a spot on the concrete as the others filter in. His section seems pretty small - about six people, and two of them are freshmen. 

The other freshman is like the embodiment of the sun, he has so much energy. He’s basically vibrating, even standing still. He has a mop of ginger hair atop his short frame, and he loudly introduces himself as Hinata Shoyo. Tsukki would absolutely hate him, and Yamaguchi snickers at the thought. 

He manages to introduce himself to the others and they all greet him enthusiastically. He smiles. 

After all the introductions and a quick round of icebreakers (the question was “how do you like your eggs?” and Yamaguchi said sunny side up) their section leader stands and starts to pass out sheets to everyone. 

“This is actually the first movement of the show,” she explains.

Yamaguchi shuffles through the two pages, reading through. It’s titled _Arrival of the Birds._

“Is this the one by the Cinematic Orchestra?” Hinata pipes up, speaking what Yamaguchi had been thinking. 

“Yeah,” answers their section leader. 

“We’re not playing some original composition for marching band?” Yamaguchi adds.

“And it’s in 3?” gasps Hinata.

“We’re not exactly a traditional marching band,” she says with a proud smirk.

The rest of the night goes by faster than Yamaguchi thought possible. The whole band plays together for the first time that night, and after just an hour and a half of rehearsal, they’re already starting to mesh together and he can hear the _Arrival of the Birds_ that he knows. They actually sound _pretty good_. 

After, Ukai leads them outside and they split into groups to learn the basics of marching. He ends up in a group with Hinata, Tsukishima, and another freshman named Kageyama, and their assigned oldman “marching tech” is none other than Tanaka. 

“Well well well!” Tanaka bellows over the sound of frontline’s musings. “Lucky you guys, you get the best tech in the whole band teachin’ you how to march!”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Daichi says as he walks by, and Tanaka visibly deflates. 

Despite his boisterous attitude, Tanaka is a good teacher. He teaches them roll-step with confidence, using other upperclassmen to demonstrate and clearly outlining what they were doing. He practices with them all together, then individually, and they all give feedback. Tanaka is generous with his constructive criticism and even more so with his praise. Hinata is bouncing off the walls, Kageyama’s scowl has dropped to a curious look of thought, and even Tsukishima is cracking a satisfied smile. The anxiety that plagued him earlier is still there, but it’s tiny and he’s not even thinking about it, glowing from Tanaka’s most recent comment on how smooth his step is. 

When they break for the night, gathering back in the band room, Takeda addresses them again. 

“I’d just like to thank you all for an incredible first day. I know it’s a lot to ask you all to take time off your summer and come here to work in the heat, but the fact that you all stepped up to do it shows how much you care. With something like band, the more energy you pour out into it, the more you’ll get out of it in the long run. These people will become your friends - and maybe even your family. You’ll spend a lot of time together, so I expect you to learn each other's name and faces, and be kind.” He smiles at them, and Yamaguchi can tell it’s wholeheartedly genuine. “Don’t forget to get a good night’s rest, eat well, and hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. With that, you’re all-”

“Wait, Teach, didn’t you wanna tell them something?” Ukai cuts in.

“OH! Yes! The show!”

The whole room tenses, leaning forward in anticipation, waiting to hear what they’ll spend the next few months performing. 

“It’s called _Fly,_ ” the room goes up in _oohs_ and _ahs_ and cheers. “It's a show about reaching for your highest potential and never giving up, always putting your best foot forwards, jumping in feet first. I hope you all can come to appreciate the meaning behind it.”

“What songs are we playing?” Someone asks from the crowd, and Takeda purses his lips like he’s thinking. 

“Well, I was going to leave it a surprise for band camp, but… oh, I’m too excited. It’ll be _Arrival of the Birds,_ as you already saw, followed by _Icarus_ by Bastille. The ballad is Debussy’s _Claire de Lune_ , and finally… _Bird Set Free_ by Sia.”

There is _uproarious_ applause. 

“I’ll take the time to explain the meaning as we get to each song, but for now, please practice _Arrival_. You’ll get more music at band camp!”

He dismisses them, and Yamaguchi is thrumming with excitement. The show sounds incredible - he loves that there was time put into giving it a meaning, a purpose. A reason to perform it. 

He waves to Hinata as the ginger bikes away and gives Tsukishima a hug that he thoroughly protests against. He skips to his mom’s car with a spring in his step, and even she is surprised to see him so excited. 

“So, I’m guessing you liked it?”

“I can’t wait for the next time,” he answers, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a short opening, but it's very introductory! I'm bad with schedules, but I'm sure my sister will be pushing me for more, so stick around :)
> 
> ps - I'm a mello/flute/winterguard!


	2. Thursday, August 4th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helllo!  
> writing this has been hella nostalgic - i've been adding in a lot of things from my own high school band experience, and my sister has been reminding me of little details i'd forgotten about. i also threw in some of my college experience, including the concept of the "packet" and all the "packet songs" mentioned, which my college band really does play! bangers only.

A week later, his mom rolled up to the curb and dropped him in the exact same spot. He gave her a quick goodbye and could barely get out fast enough. 

After his first day with band they had three more rehearsals spread over the weekend. His marching had improved a fair amount in just a couple days, though he still felt like he was lagging behind, and he had a habit of tripping when he was going backwards. His upperclassmen assured him it was something he could fix at band camp. 

Before marching band, he’d played french horn in middle school. He was usually second or third horn, but he never really cared about placements (or at least, told himself he didn’t) because he didn't have the time to practice or take lessons. Tsukki once asked him why he’d picked such a difficult instrument. His reply was that it just stuck out to him. That much was true - when he’d decided to follow Tsukishima to the concert band and walked into the first meeting, the teacher had asked him what instrument he wanted to play. Yamaguchi, panicking, said he didn’t know how to play any. The teacher sighed kindly and told him to think about it, gesturing to the posters of different instruments lined up on the classroom wall. He’d done so - and as soon as his eyes passed over the French horn poster, some part of him knew, and he’d been playing ever since. 

Mello was much, much different. The buzzing was the same, and the fingerings, but the sound was so different. _Bigger. Louder_. And he was having trouble controlling his volume, especially under duress of marching, but after the learning curve of the early summer, he’d been managing to improve every time he played. 

The scene outside the performing arts building was much different than last week. All along the sidewalk were duffels, sleeping bags, backpacks, and pillow pets ready to make the journey to camp. The marching band’s trailer (a leftover from their powerhouse days) was hooked up to a parent’s truck and sitting open as percussionists were already starting to load their things. Yamaguchi noticed Tanaka rolling a marimba down the sidewalk _much_ too quickly, as two other percussionists chased after him. He also saw the girl from check in - Kiyoko, he remembered - holding flagbags in her hands and talking with a young girl who looked both awed and absolutely terrified to be in her presence. 

_Are you here?_ he texted Tsukki, and the reply was quicker than he expected.

_Band room._

Yamaguchi set his things on the sidewalk, keeping his backpack, and pushed his way inside to the band room. Tsukishima was easy to find in a crowd, but the band room was surprisingly sparse. His friend was sitting cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, but just so happened to look up as Yamaguchi entered, as if he’d sensed it. Yamaguchi dutifully took his spot next to him. 

“Nervous?” he asked, trying to make conversation. 

Tsukishima shrugged. “Not really. I figure what happens, happens. No point in worrying myself sick.” He gave Yamaguchi a pointed look, and the smaller boy blanched. 

“Hey,” said another voice, as someone propped up a case next to them and sat. “Yamaguchi and… Tsukishima, right? Mello and bone?” They both nodded, and the boy beamed. “I’m Ennoshita! I play baritone. It’s good to finally talk to you both!”

“You too,” said Tsukishima politely. “How did you know our names after just a week?”

Ennoshita laughed. “It’s kind of my job to know everybody. I’m drum major apprentice.” 

“Apprentice?” Yamaguchi asked.

“I’ll be drum major when Suga and Daichi graduate.”

“Oh! That’s really cool.” Ennoshita just smiled, obviously a little uncomfortable with the attention. His left hand fidgeted idly with something hanging around his neck, and Yamaguchi’s eyebrows threaded together as he tried to get a better look. “What’re those?”

“This?” Ennoshita pulled at the chain to show the collection of dogtags attached. They clinked together noisily, and Yamaguchi realized he’d heard the sound among the band before. “They’re kind of a band tradition. You’ll see.”

“We’ll see?” Tsukishima challenged. 

“Yes. You’ll see,” Ennoshita just smiled. 

“‘Noshita, we’re loading!” Tanaka’s voice ricocheted off the walls of the mostly empty band room, and all three of them looked up only to catch a glimpse of him back out the door. 

“Well, that’s our cue,” Ennoshita said, flipping his baritone into his hand as he stood. “Let’s go.” 

The two freshmen followed him outside, where the other non-percussion members were starting to gather, some older members lining up by the trailer ramp. Ennoshita ran off to help, and Tsukishima and Yamaguchi found a spot in line. Up on the bed of the trailer itself was Daichi and another boy who seemed to dwarf even him, his red hair pulled into a messy ponytail at the back of his head. They finished up tying down frontline instruments and hanging harnesses as Suga’s voice called _“Play the game!”_ and suddenly a duffel bag was being handed to Yamaguchi; he passed it onto the next person in line only for another to take its place, and slowly but surely all the luggage that had been lining the curb was funneled onto the trailer.

When the curb was empty, save for a few backpacks, pillow pets, and smaller instruments, they were called back into the band room. The squished gatherings in the room, Yamaguchi sitting close to Tsukishima, were already starting to feel familiar. Suga and Daichi were the last in the door, and once they were seated at the front the murmurs of the crowd fell away as Takeda started to address them. 

“I hope you’re all excited!” he began, to cheers from the upperclassmen. “Karasuno always has a good time at camp. Just remember who you are and what you represent. Treat the site and the staff with respect - I know you all will give nothing less than the best. When we get there, drop your stuff off near the cafeteria and head to where we usually unload. Returning members, help guide the freshman. You’ll have a little time to drop your things off at the dorms, then we’ll meet for music rehearsal at the amphitheater. Understand?”

Nods and noises of agreement rose from the crowd. One voice, that Yamaguchi thought might be Noya’s, piped up, “Are we doing a grocery run?” 

Takeda sighed at his enthusiasm. “Yes, Nishinoya, we’ll be going on a grocery run.” He had to pause as the room erupted into applause. “I’ll explain more about that later. For now, load up! Crows, on three - one, two, three-“

 _“CAW!!”_ yelled the band in response, and the suddenness of it made Yamaguchi jump. 

The room moved all at once. Yamaguchi grabbed Tsukishima’s hand, almost instinctively. “Let’s sit together on the bus.” 

It was already an unspoken agreement between them, and Tsukki didn’t argue, so that was as much of a yes as Yamaguchi was going to get. 

The band had three buses waiting on the curb to take them to camp. Takeda and Ukai were in charge of the first bus, the brass and woodwind instructors took the second, and the guard coach took the third. Yamaguchi was ready to pick a bus at random when he and Tsukishima were herded onto the second by an overactive Tanaka and Noya, Ennoshita smiling right behind them. As he walked up the steps, he noticed they weren’t the only familiar faces that took this bus. Daichi and Suga were settling into one of the seats at the front. Noya rushed past them to sit with the ponytail boy who’d been helping load the truck, dumping his backpack on the seat behind them to save it. Kiyoko and the blonde girl from before had already taken seats - it looked like Kiyoko had taken the younger guard member under her wing, how cute. Yamaguchi was a little surprised to see Hinata and Kageyama sharing a seat, staring down at each other even as they sat not two feet apart. His attention was torn away by Ennoshita waving at them, now occupying the seat that Noya had saved with Tanaka, and pointed to an open one close by. 

“Thanks for saving us a seat,” Yamaguchi said out of habit, but Ennoshita waved him off. 

“You’re part of the group now.” 

Yamaguchi _beamed_. 

“First bus is always too quiet!” Noya said, sitting up backwards on the seat. “Second bus is fun.” 

“You mean loud,” said the boy next to him, and Noya shushed him with a pout. 

“It’d be _fun_ if you sang along with us, Asahi!” he insisted. 

“Good God,” Tsukishima said quietly, the first words he’d spoken all day. “What have we gotten ourselves into.” 

Yamaguchi laughed and clapped him on the back with a, “Loosen up, Tsukki!” but the blonde just stared at him through his glasses. 

Asahi was right - after not even a half an hour, it was getting loud. The bus had been warned once by Suga not to be _so_ loud as to distract the driver, and since then Noya and Tanaka had found a compromising volume to conduct their chaos. 

“Bus debate, bus debate, debate, debate, debate!” they were chanting, and other band kids on the bus had taken out their headphones and looked up from their phones to see what was going on. Tsukishima was one of the ones that didn’t look up, but Yamaguchi did, and he saw more than a few people with smiles that betrayed they knew what a “bus debate” was. 

“Asahi!” said Noya, raising the boy’s hand against his will. “Versus…”

“Kiyoko!” Tanaka finished, looking expectantly towards the girl he’d just called out, and she only sighed. 

“No.”

“C’mon, Kiyoko, pleeeease?” 

“No.” 

“Fine. Asahi versus Suga!” 

From the front of the bus, a head of silver hair popped up from behind a bus seat and turned to face them. He had a devious smile on his face. “What’s the topic?”

Noya spoke up again enthusiastically. “The topic is _Build Me Up Buttercup_ versus _Mr. Brightside.”_

“I’ll take _Mr. Brightside!”_ said Suga immediately, and Asahi’s face fell. 

“Now that’s an unfair fight.” 

“No complaining, Asahi! It’s a bus debate! Now, two minutes on the clock!”

Yamaguchi leaned over the aisle to catch Ennoshita’s attention, hoping he could shed some light on what the _hell_ was happening. Ennoshita just chuckled at his expression before he had the chance to ask the question. “The bus debate part is exactly what it sounds like. Each side gets two minutes to come up with a reasoning for their side and present it to the bus. The songs are out of our pep tune packet - _Mr. Brightside_ by the Killers and _Build Me Up Buttercup_ by the Foundations.”

“Ah, I get it,” answered Yamaguchi, even though he really didn’t.

“Two minutes up!” yelled Tanaka. “Let’s hear it.”

Suga’s face popped back over the bus seat, craned over his shoulder. He was still facing forward enough to avoid getting yelled at by the driver. “ _Mr. Brightside_ is a cult classic of our generation. It is a straight banger. When The Killers were still playing in bars, it was one of the first songs they performed. Could you imagine? Being in a bar listening to some nobody band and then suddenly you hear _Mr. Brightside?_ When we play it, the crowd always goes wild. _Brightside_ is and always will be _the_ banger song of the packet.”

With that, he sat, and his dissertation was met with raucous cheers. As those settled down, Noya nudged Asahi up in his seat. 

“While _Build Me Up Buttercup_ might not be such cult classic party music as _Brightside,”_ he started, his confidence gaining with every word, “There’s one thing that it has over _Brightside_ anyday. Its arrangement in the packet is leaps and bounds better.” He dropped this bomb on the crowd to a shocked silence that lasted a few long seconds. Then, someone whooped and the rest of the bus joined in. Asahi grinned, letting the attention spur him on. “When have you ever listened to _Buttercup_ and not had it stuck in your head for hours afterwards? And it’s got a whole different vibe to it, but man does it vibe. Sometimes you don’t want the kind of energy _Brightside_ brings. So _why don’t you build me up-”_

That was all it took for the cheering to turn into the lyrics of the song. Suga shook his head in defeat but smiled and sang along to the rest of the bus. Yamaguchi didn’t know all the words, but he figured he would soon enough. 

After an hour and some change of driving, the buses slowed and pulled off the highway, stopping at the parking lot of a strip mall. Yamaguchi took a quick sweep of the bus and noticed upperclassmen putting away their DSs and pulling on their shoes. Tanaka and Noya were sitting up ramrod straight, literally vibrating with energy. Tsukishima had his headphones on and his eyes closed as he nestled into his jacket like a bird, so Yamaguchi prodded him in the arm. He frowned at him but took off his headphones to hang around his neck and opened his eyes with a few long blinks. 

Out the window, he noticed the students of bus one filing out and dispersing in all directions. He was about to ask if their bus would be doing the same when Takeda walked through the bus door and up the stairs to address them. 

“Okay! For those of you who don’t know, this is a grocery run. You’re free to anything in this section of the lot - I know there’s Taco Bell, Burger King, Subway, among a few other places, and then the Safeway, too. Just be smart, and also be back by twelve thirty. Good? Good.”

With that, he took the bus’ stairs back out the door, heading to bus three, and all the students seemed to stand at once. 

Once he and Tsukishima were outside, standing on the asphalt, he really didn’t know what the plan was. “I’ll follow wherever,” said Tsukki, as if reading his thoughts, “I’m not picky.”

Well, Tsukishima’s indifference didn’t help his decision making. He was almost relieved when Ennoshita appeared in front of them and waved a hand in invitation. They followed him to Safeway, where he waited for them at the entrance. 

“You can get whatever you want on a grocery run, and it’s easy to get carried away,” Ennoshita shrugged. “But I figured this out last year.” 

They’d stopped at the deli counter inside, where Ennoshita ordered a hot sandwich and grinned over his shoulder like this corner of Safeway was a huge secret. Yamaguchi had seen other band kids follow them into the store, but they were long gone now, off rummaging through the aisles. In that moment, Yamauchi watching as Ennoshita was handed a foil-wrapped panini over the counter, he seemed to be the smartest, most mature member of the band. And he was helping _him,_ of all people. 

He and Tsukishima ordered as well, and the three of them picked up bottles of soda on their way out. The entire thing had taken them scarcely fifteen minutes, and they leisurely picked a spot at one of the outside tables to eat. 

“So, are you guys excited?” Ennoshita asked between two bites of ham, cheese, and sourdough. Yamaguchi, mouth full, nodded enthusiastically. Tsukishima _mhm-_ ed affirmatively. 

“Band camp is one of my favorite times of the year,” he went on, almost wistfully. “Meeting everyone, spending time away from the city, and it’s just constantly music, music, music. I hope you guys really do have a good time.”

“And you’re still not going to tell us what all will happen?” Tsukishima asked, a smirk on his face.

Ennoshita returned it. “Nope. You’ll see.”

They finished lunch with still an hour to spare before they needed to be back on the bus. As if on cue, Asahi was walking up to their table, a Safeway bag in hand. 

“Oh, hey,” he greeted. “Noya said to meet him at the dollar store. Would you like to come along?”

He seemed to be addressing all of them, but Yamaguchi waited to see what Ennoshita would say. 

“Sure. Coming too?” he asked, further extending the invitation to Yamaguchi and Tsukishima, who nodded, stood, and followed the two upperclassmen to the store next door. 

The scene in the dollar store was much different than the one in Safeway. The namesake of the run had been mostly quiet, but here there seemed to be at least two dozen band kids crammed in the small store. The energy was chaotic, and Yamaguchi could feel it - the other band members weren’t being disruptive, but they didn’t have to break rules and merchandise to completely change the atmosphere of the store. 

Sure enough, Tanaka was standing in the middle of one of the aisles, his hands gripped around a shopping cart, and one Nishinoya Yuu sitting inside of it. Noya was surrounded by two gallon jugs of Hawaiian Punch, a family-size bag of puffed Cheetos, and a knockoff Nerf gun. His phone was pressed to his ear, but when the bell over the door rang to signal their arrival, he looked up and beamed at Asahi, waving his hands. 

“What the hell are you doing,” Asahi asked, though it sounded like less of a question and more of an exasperated statement. 

“Shopping. Duh?” Noya answered, holding up one of the bottles of Hawaiian punch for emphasis. “Hey, what snacks do you want to have in the room? Ryuu and I are stocking up.”

Yamaguchi left his upperclassmen to their exploits, heading down one of the aisles with Tsukishima at his side. The dollar store was a predictable mess of assorted items, ranging from toys to food to cheap clothing - and Yamaguchi watched with amusement as his fellow bandmates roamed the store and laughed at inside jokes with another. 

He’d lost Tsukishima, he realized suddenly. A quick look over his shoulder showed that the other boy had stopped at the candy racks they already passed, staring at the contents intently. Yamaguchi stepped the five paces back to stand at his side again. 

“Want something?” Tsukishima asked, without looking at Yamaguchi. His eyes were flicking between a box of Junior Mints and Bottlecaps, as if trying to decide.

“Maybe, but I didn’t bring too much. About enough for the sandwich.” 

“My treat.”

It wasn’t the first time Tsukishima offered to pay for him, but it took him a little aback this time. Tsukishima finally turned to look at him.

“What?”

“You don’t have to do that, Tsukki-”

“I don’t mind. I probably owe you for something, anyway.” He finally decided to get both the Junior Mints and the Bottlecaps, and a pack of Swedish Fish. He must’ve seen Yamaguchi open his mouth out of the corner of his eye, because he added, “Don’t worry about it. Pick something out, Tadashi.”

Yamaguchi half smiled, grabbing a bag of gummy bears. Tsukishima took it from his hands and piled it with his own haul, stepping towards the register.

It was incredible to have passed a whole hour in the tiny dollar store, but Yamaguchi supposed that time _would_ move fast if you were watching Noya and Tanaka herd Ennoshita and Asahi around and come up with increasingly convoluted plans for how to integrate their dollar store finds into the band camp experience. In the end, the duo came away with two knock off nerf guns, a bag of assorted candies, two bags of chips, two gallons of Hawaiian Punch, and a plastic keychain that Noya had laughed at for a whole ten minutes because Tanaka thought the picture was of the Skytree.

The six of them walked back to the buses together, laughing over nothing. The rest of bus two was starting to filter back as well, resettling in their seats. When Daichi and Suga boarded the bus, he couldn’t help the laugh that jumped out. Daichi had on a plain black hoodie, with _"It's a DAICHI thing, you wouldn't understand"_ written in teal font on the front, one of those personalized shirts you see advertised on Facebook. Suga's new outfit was even more outrageous - a dull olive green sweatshirt with green fabric-and-button flowers tracing the shape of a heart, and stitched into the middle in green plaid fabric was _"GRANDMA"._

Daichi’s smile was sheepish, but Suga was grinning. “Look what we found at Goodwill!” he announced, though by then the bus’ attention had already been on the couple for a few moments. "They had one that said 'wine aunt' too, but Daichi said I couldn't wear that at camp. Grandma it is."

Someone whistled, and Suga bowed dramatically. Daichi sat down and hid his face in his hands, laughing. 

Yamaguchi wasn’t sure when he dozed off, but soon Tsukishima was gently shaking his shoulder to wake him. Camp Pinetop was settled up in the mountains of the country, half an hour out of the town proper where they stopped for the grocery run. They wound down a gravel road to get to it, passing by assorted cabins and quaint houses along the way. The buses managed to orient themselves into something akin to parking, and Takeda dismissed each bus as he did before, repeating the instructions he gave earlier that morning. 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi walked in silence through the front entrance to the camp, passing by a stone sign that announced the camp’s name. Just past the sign was a concrete sidewalk that led in two directions, down a small slope further into the camp in front of them, and to their right it joined with the patio of a large building that Yamaguchi assumed was the cafeteria. Other band kids were setting their things at the patio tables, so they did the same, and then followed the crowd down the main sidewalk, past a small grassy courtyard and a tiny gazebo, to where the sidewalk gave way to more gravel and a medium-sized single story building that was proclaimed the Tabernacle by a wooden sign. The trailer was already backing up into the gravel next to the building, band kids lining up to unload it. 

“It’s not quite what I expected,” Tsukishima said, taking in the surroundings. “But I like it.”

“What were you expecting?” answered Yamaguchi. 

“I’m not sure. None of band has been the way I expected it so far. But not in a bad way.”

They played the game the same way they had earlier, unloading all the instruments and luggage off the truck before percussion swooped in to take care of the rest. That meant most of their group from before was helping frontline and drumline move into the Tabernacle, and Yamaguchi’s panic spiked when he realized they didn’t know where they were going next. Luckily, Asahi was there to save them, walking them to the boys’ dorms. 

The dorms were built cabin-style, two stories, each with a wooden patio fenced in with green trimmings. The sight was homey; just looking at it put Yamaguchi at ease. 

“What room are you in?” Asahi asked. 

Tsukishima spoke up, they had signed up for rooms before they left the school and he and Yamaguchi had picked a random one together. “Three.”

“Guess we’re roomies!” 

Yamaguchi laughed, surprised but not disappointed that his luck had landed them with their new friends. 

Room 3 was on the bottom floor. Asahi opened the door and held it for them, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima filing in with a thankful nod. The room was small, just two bunk beds and a plain dresser on a wooden floor, and a single screened window by the open front door. On the other side of the room was another door, leading to a small bathroom and another, identical connected room. 

“Who else is in here?” Tukishima asked Asahi as he threw his backpack onto one of the bunk beds. 

“Myself, Noya, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Hinata, and Kageyama.” Tsukishima did not look happy at the mention of the other first-years, but if Asahi noticed, he didn’t comment. “So we’ll probably put all the freshmen in here?”

He asked it like a question, even though it was more of a suggestion. Tsukishima just sighed, and Yamaguchi nodded. Hinata and Kageyama were a lot, but it couldn’t be _that_ bad to room with them. Asahi just smiled encouragingly, crossing over to the other connected room, and closed the door behind him. “What time do we need to be ready for rehearsal?” asked Yamaguchi from his perch on one of the top bunks.

“Mr. Takeda said two-thirty,” Tsukishima answered. He swiped his phone out of his pocket to check. “We have about forty-five minutes.”

“Wanna look around camp?”

“Don’t see why not.”

They left their instruments and backpacks in the room, taking the wooden stairs back down to the main courtyard. Band kids were everywhere, some filtering in and out of the dorms, some sitting together and talking. On the side opposite to the dorms and adjacent to the Tabernacle was another building, this one built like an A-frame cabin. Outside it was a small playground and a blue-and-yellow painted gaga ball court, where a handful of kids were already playing. 

Other than that, there wasn’t much. The gravel road where they’d unloaded the trailer led to the outdoor amphitheatre and the field. The amphitheatre was nested into the side of a small hill covered in large boulders, and beyond that was pines as far as he could see. 

“It’s kind of nice,” Yamaguchi said, because he really didn’t know how to articulate the peacefulness that the camp gave him. 

He didn’t remember how he and Tsukki spent those forty five minutes. It was one of those times where they were together, talking about nothing, Yamaguchi laughing and Tsukishima cracking one of his grins. When they were together, Yamaguchi wasn’t counting the minutes, he was just basking in his best friend’s presence. 

The inside of the amphitheatre was accessed by a small footbridge that crossed over a shallow, rocky ditch, likely there for when it stormed. Past the bridge was paved with flagstone that gave way to concrete steps going up into the hill, and a raised stage that was covered with an open, cabin-esque structure. 

Tsukishima took his place with the other bones, towards the center left of the steps, and Yamaguchi found the other mellos. Before long the amphitheatre was filled with the sounds of different instruments warming up. Yamaguchi buzzed into his mouthpiece nervously, too self-conscious to warm up at full volume. He’d deal with the consequences of that later.

To his surprise, it wasn’t Takeda that took the stage, but Suga and Daichi. They were still wearing their new sweaters. At their appearance the crowd went silent, waiting to see what they’d do next. 

Daichi called up a scale, and he and Suga raised their arms to conduct them through it in whole notes. 

This is what Yamaguchi had been expecting - being led through scales and exercises, maybe the music they’d already worked on. But as soon as the scale finished, he was surprised yet again. 

Suga grinned, stepped forwards, and pointed a finger to his right eye. “ _Story In Your Eyes!_ ”

“ _Story!”_ the crowd yelled in response, passing the sign back through the ranks. 

“What?” Yamaguchi said, looking to an upperclassman for answers. Hinata looked just as confused as he was, but was just staring with a perplexed face at the same upperclassman Yamaguchi had just questioned. 

The other mello laughed. “It’s a song in the packet,” she replied, referring to the thick pack of pep tunes that their section leader had given them a week prior. Yamaguchi scrambled for his. “Every song has a call sign, that’s what we were passing on. Just try to keep up.”

The last part was a little off putting, but Yamaguchi pushed that aside, clutching his music in his left hand while his right held up his mello. The crowd was dead silent, their drum majors standing with arms up and out, ready to conduct, and Yamaguchi felt the collective breath when Suga counted them off. 

First off, they took _Story_ about ten beats faster than the original. Second, the mellos had seven bars of rest after the pickup, during which Yamaguchi had expected to wait for them to come in - but the other mellos besides he and Hinata were pumping their mellos to the beat, bouncing on the balls of their feet. Hinata wasted no time copying them, and after a breath Yamaguchi joined in. He was happy to see he sounded fine once they started playing, but was caught off guard again when the first verse was marked “2nd time only” and the mellos started _no shit shimmying_ back and forth, alternating every other person. It took him and Hinata a moment longer to catch it that time, and once they did, they were thrown into playing the repeat anyway. That wasn’t the last time they shimmied, either. Yamaguchi would make a solid guess that about half the mello part in _Story_ was just shimmying. It ended on a high G, and his lack of warmup came back to bite him when he cracked.

Daichi called up the next song, the fingers of his right hand forming an _E_ as he waved it above his head. “ _Everybody’s Everything!”_

The bones to Yamaguchi’s right went up in cheers, pushing their way down the stairs to stand all in a line underneath the stage and the two drum majors. He looked to see if Tsukishima was among them, but they’d left their freshmen in the stands. Daichi looked to the section leader, getting a nod in return, then counted everyone in with a smile. The trombones up front were completely in sync as they swung their instruments around in the practiced motions of choreography, and Yamaguchi was almost too enthralled to look at his music. After the breakdown that followed the first chorus, though, the bones suddenly straightened. The music rolled into the second verse and the bones were alternating, one person bending at the waist as the other swung their bone over their head. With ten bones all in a row it was _wild_ to look at, a dance that they were obviously proud of. The song ended on a fermata, the bones all blasting back at the audience, then a momentary pause during which every band member who had a hat threw it at the drum majors, then the last long note. 

It seemed every section had a set of choreography for each song. At this point, the anxiety of not knowing what he was doing had given way to a genuine, heartfelt _fun_ that he was having in the presence of his fellow band members, the joy of playing again after a long summer making him smile so hard he could barely hold his embouchure. 

During _Take On Me,_ called up by Suga holding out his hands and motioning invitingly, the mellos threw themselves in wide vertical arcs during the chorus of the song. He whipped his head so hard during _Separate Ways_ he thought his neck might break, and _Come On Eileen_ had him swaying with the beat. He lost count of how many songs had been called up, but if the rapidly approaching sunset was any indication, they’d been playing for hours. 

Daichi cut the last song ( _Build Me Up Buttercup_ ) and both drum majors stepped back as Takeda stepped forward. Their teacher congratulated them on an excellent rehearsal, gave them some reminders for later, and dismissed them for dinner. 

“What did you think?” asked a mello, the same one he’d asked earlier. Yamaguchi looked over his shoulder to see they had a friendly smile. 

He smirked as he took apart his mello and set it back gently in its case. “Pretty wild,” he admitted. In any other circumstances, the idea of being totally unaware of what he was doing, just barely keeping up with the others, out of the loop, would’ve made him describe the experience with words like _terrifying_ and _nerve-racking_. Instead, Yamaguchi turned to the upperclassman and with full confidence, said “I loved it.”

After dinner, they had another half hour of free time before Takeda had told them to meet up by the cafeteria. When he and Tsukishima got there, they were greeted by the sight of kids lining up and grabbing hands. 

“Trust walk,” explained Ennoshita lightly. “You’ll see.”

“There’s that infuriating phrase again,” Tsukishima replied with a smirk, but Ennoshita brushed him off with a grin and when Yamaguchi reached over for his hand, he twined their fingers together. 

Takeda was at the front of the line, followed by Ukai, then Daichi, then Suga. The rest of the band was single file after them, and deadly quiet. 

“The point of the trust walk is to stay silent,” Takeda explained. “And of course, have faith in the people in front of you. If you’ll be putting on a show with the other people on that field, you’ll have to trust that they have your back. Don’t let go of their hands.”

Tsukishima was to Yamaguchi’s right, and Ennoshita to his left. Suddenly he was jolted, Ennoshita clutching his hand tightly, as the line moved.

They wound around the camp like that - silent, clutching each others’ hands tightly. Sometimes the line sped up, sometimes it slowed. Takeda led them up stairs, around buildings, even stopping once to literally smell the flowers, every person in line copying his actions. 

They rounded the A-frame, and the line made its way towards the small playground outside it. Yamaguchi thought, _Surely, we won’t-_ before the thought was cut off by the line climbing the stairs of the structure, and then the front of the line went down the curly slide. 

The line _jolted_ forwards, Yamaguchi nearly pulled off his feet, as people tumbled down the slide. More than once, they lost their balance and collapsed in a heap, the whole line coming to a stop as they helped each other up, stifling giggles, but never breaking hands. 

Their journey ended at the Tabernacle, the line leading them through the entrance to the concrete floor and the dim lights. From there the line began to circle, curling in on itself, speeding up until Yamaguchi was running sideways, returning smiles at each person he passed. The line quickly became a cinnamon roll, then folded in on itself until it was just a mass of tired, giggling band kids. 

They released hands. The group expanded back out into a large circle, taking a seat on the cool floor. The brass and woodwind instructors appeared, carrying a plastic box, into which Takeda reached in and grabbed a few plastic bags. 

“This band is special,” he started. “We’re all connected. You all are part of it now, officially. And if you give your best in this band, it’ll pay you back tenfold. All these people are your friends now. We’re family.”

At that, Suga and Daichi each took a bag and started making their way around the circle, Suga handing out what looked like a small chain and Daichi a little black dog tag. On one side was etched _Karasuno High School Marching Band_ , with a small crow in flight, and on the other side was one word, written in cursive script - _Fly._

Once they both went around the circle once, Suga and Daichi returned to grab another bag each, these filled with orange dogtags. Yamaguchi noticed this one had no words, etched with a feather on one side and blank on the other. Daichi handed him another, the same orange with the feather on one side, but the other read, _Birds of a Feather_.

Takeda started to explain. “There’s a few reasons for these. First, everyone gets the show tag, to commemorate your place here in the band and the show that you’ll be performing. The orange tag, with the feather and the writing on it, is to remind you of the show theme. _Birds of a Feather,_ because we are stronger together. The show we’re performing is about learning to be your best, to fly over all obstacles, but I want you all to realize that it’s easier to do that with the help of your friends. As for the blank one… String it on the left side of the chain, closest to your heart. It’ll be important later. And-” Takeda held up the chain, where he’d strung three of his own dogtags together, and shook it so it jingled. “When you hear that sound, you’ll know you’re among friends.”

Yamaguchi couldn’t help the warmth blooming in his chest. Band hadn’t been what he’d expected, not at all - but he was in love with the experience. He loved his new friends. 

“Yamaguchi,” came the voice, and he turned to Tsukishima. “Would you put mine on?”

If Yamaguchi hadn’t known any better, he would think Tsukishima was _embarrassed._ But he did know better, and he was touched that Tsukki would be that soft with him, to let him clip together the dogtags at the back of his neck.

Of course, Yamaguchi asked him to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> band camp was intended to be one chapter, then this happened. oops! there’s more  
> thank you for reading! the concept of dogtags and the trust walk were real traditions in my high school band that i loved <3 camp pinetop is, of course, based on the place i had band camp for four years. it was religious (but the band wasn’t) which is why they had the tabernacle, but i really didn't know what else to call it. it's not super important tho!  
> also, i'm so soft for the noya/tanaka/ennoshita squad!!!!! i love them!!!! send tweet
> 
> thanks for reading, see you next time


	3. Friday, August 5th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy haikyuu day!!! (and good luck to my little sis, who is trying out for her drumline today!!)
> 
> i definitely didn't notice this fic has not been updated for a month. where does the time go?? i had a minor creative slump but now i'm BACK, baby, and in a major marching band mood because it's about time for the season to start for me (except pac-12 football was cancelled, so now i'm just hoping for a spring season). you may have noticed that the story summary also changed - this story got a _minor_ rewrite, but it'll be good, trust me!
> 
> anyway, among All Of This, it's more common for slumps to happen than we think. don't forget to take breaks, your work will be better for it in the end!

The alarm was going to go off at six. Yamaguchi knew that, because he had been there when the room decided that was when they were getting up, and Hinata had set the alarm for them.

Nothing in the world could have prepared him to be bolted awake to the sound of _Sell Out_ by Reel Big Fish. 

Hinata wakes quickly, though seemingly unbothered, scrambling for his phone to turn it off. Kageyama had bolted upright and now lowered himself down again to the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “What the hell, Hinata. I’m going to kill you.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Hinata throws back at him, typing in his password with a single thumb. Finally, the incessant noise of ska stops. 

“But it also gave me and everyone in the entire camp a heart attack,” Kageyama points out. 

Hinata just shrugs, swinging his feet around to land on the floor, standing and moving to grab his toothbrush from his bag. How he has so much energy this early in the morning - or ever, for that matter - Yamaguchi has no earthly clue.

Yamaguchi opens his phone, squinting against the light. He has two texts from his mom, telling him goodnight and asking him to check in when he has time. Otherwise, there’s nothing. That’s not much of a surprise. He wasn’t expecting his phone to be a huge distraction during camp. 

He’s the second one up after Hinata, Kageyama having fallen back asleep and Tsukishima waiting until the last possible second to get up. Yamaguchi shakes his shoulder anyway as he passes. 

“Are you getting breakfast?” 

“You know I don’t eat in the mornings,” Tsukishima mutters back, turning away from him to bury his face in the pillow. 

Yamaguchi shrugs on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, the cool air of the mountains seeping in through the open window. He pulls on a pair of sneakers, grabs his phone, and closes the door softly behind him before walking towards the cafeteria. 

Outside is quiet. The sun had barely risen, casting the quaint camp in a grey light, and the only sound was the wind through the trees and owls hooting somewhere in the distance. It was so quiet, in fact, that Yamaguchi worried he’d messed up the times for breakfast, but once he reached the cafeteria he saw some of the other band kids gathering by the door and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

It was only slightly awkward to be alone in line, others talking amongst groups and pairs of friends while he stood there wringing his hands. Breakfast was set up buffet-style, so he made himself a modest plate and scanned the cafeteria for a place to sit. 

He was lucky to see Tanaka’s hand waving from across the room. 

“Good morning,” Yamaguchi said quietly. Though he knew these upperclassmen were his friends - they’d said so themselves - it still felt weird to be the only freshman sitting amongst their group. 

Noya waved at him enthusiastically. “Hey, Yamaguchi! Where’s Tsukishima?” 

“Sleeping in. He doesn’t like breakfast.”

“Better make sure he doesn’t oversleep! Else he’s gotta sing at practice in front of everybody.”

The look on Yamaguchi’s face must’ve been one of horror, because Noya burst out laughing. “It’s not as bad as it sounds! And it rarely ever happens.” 

“Happened to you last year, Noya,” Asahi pointed out, to giggles from the table.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“Are you excited for today?” Tanaka asked from beside him, Asahi and Noya continuing to banter back and forth. 

“Oh, yeah. What do we do today?” 

He expected to be given another _you’ll see,_ but to his surprise Tanaka launched into an explanation of the day. “Marching in the morning, then lunch, music rehearsal, dinner, then… today’s Friday, yeah? Then we got the dance!”

“The dance?” Yamaguchi asks, suddenly nervous.

“It’s nothing too serious,” Ennoshita waves off with one hand, spearing a bite of his pancake with the other. “We just get the night to relax and chill out, there’s a DJ set up in the Tabernacle, and a bunch of people just chill outside.”

“But you _can_ ask someone to the dance, if you want to,” Tanaka sing-songs.

Ennoshita throws him a look. “If you _want_ to,” he stresses.

“ _Is_ there anyone, Yamaguchi?” Noya teases. He leans halfway across the table before Asahi grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him into his seat. 

“Nah,” he answers, but in all honesty, it doesn’t sound convincing even to him. Luckily the other boys are just teasing and don’t push it, so Yamaguchi gets the chance to throw in a jab of his own. “Have you asked Kiyoko, Tanaka?”

The older boy flusters, but manages a confident smile and says, “Yep! Last year _and_ this year.”

“And did she say yes?”

He keeps the smile, but noticeably deflates. “Nope.”

The table bursts into laughter.

There’s a certain routine to moving as a full band, he finds. After breakfast, he’d gone back to the room to find Tsukishima tugging on his shoes and Hinata and Kageyama watching each other from across the room. Something unspoken had passed between them and they both jumped up at once, rushing past Yamaguchi to race out the door. 

“They forgot their nametags,” Tsukishima said without looking up from his shoelaces, and sure enough, both their lanyards were hanging from the post of the bunk bed. “Should we grab it for them?” 

Yamaguchi’s mind flashed back to earlier, when Noya had warned him not to be late to practice. “Yeah, but don’t tell ‘em we have ‘em just yet.” He got an amused snort from Tsukishima, and grinned in response. 

From there, they grabbed their instruments from the storage room connected to the Tabernacle, following the others’ lead to line up on the sidewalk just outside it. Trombones were just in front of mellos in the line-up order, which meant Tsukishima and Yamaguchi could still stand next to each other. It was a small bit of familiarity.

Daichi gave them the whistles to snap to attention, leading the way to the field. Besides the crunch of gravel beneath their feet, the steady tap of the snare, and the beating of Yamaguchi’s heart out of his chest, it was silent. 

The field was likely smaller than football-size, he realized as they rounded the corner. It was simple, a clearing of patchy yellow-green grass lined with a chalky white paint. The side nearest to them was bordered with the same boulders that sat behind the amphitheatre, with a set of small metal bleachers marking it the front of the field. The back and furthest sides of the field were bordered by the pine trees that surrounded the rest of the camp, the remaining edge lined by a concrete basketball court. It was quaint, just like the rest of the camp, but the energy there was _different_ in a way he couldn’t place. 

More whistles released them from set, and the band scattered, each section staking claim somewhere on the edge of the field. Guard went straight for the basketball court, bones to the far side, flutes on the bleachers. Mellos, easygoing as ever, were content with a shady spot on the sidelines. 

Sweeping his eyes around the field, he noticed a few bandsmen clustering something in the grass, marks made in the same white chalky paint that lined the field. He hadn’t been able to read it when they marched in, but now he can see it says _“Good Luck! <3 Nekoma”. _

“Who’s Nekoma?” he asks his section leader as she walks over. 

“Oh? They’re another school in the district.” She fumbles with something in her arms and presses a plastic bag in his hands. “We’ve had a pretty close relationship with them in the past. Their band is really nice.”

He inspects the bag she gave him - it has three plastic chips, one orange, one black, and one white, and each with a hole in the center, along with three nails. He turns his head back to her for explanation at the same moment she hands him a sharpie.

“Write your name on the chips. You use them to mark where your sets are.”

The explanation is only slightly helpful, but he does as she asks. 

They’re called into a big circle on the field, facing each other with Daichi, Suga, Ennoshita, and Tanaka in the center. It surprises Yamaguchi that it took him this long to find out that Tanaka is a drum major apprentice; he hadn’t bragged or even mentioned it once, but then again Yamaguchi has found that he’s much humbler than he seems at first glance. The position is a good fit for him. 

The circle condenses for something called “breathing exercises” - each drum major and apprentice leads the group through one, teaching them to hold their breath and stretch and fill not just their lungs, but their diaphragm. It’s a new concept, but when he starts coughing after a set of in-and-out breathing, an upperclassman hits him across the back and says “good, that means it’s working.”

There’s a call for the circle to expand so they have room to stretch, but before they all can move, two section leaders call up to Daichi and Suga about freshmen forgetting their nametags, and sure enough, Kageyama and Hinata get pushed to the center of the circle. 

“Gotta sing for them,” says the Clarinet section leader with a shrug. Hinata looks mildly embarrassed, Kageyama looks like he wants to sink into the ground. 

Suga leans over to whisper something between them, but they both shake their heads at the same time and say something akin to “It’s fine, I’ll do it.”

“Together?” asks Hinata innocently, but he makes the mistake of saying it loud enough for the crowd to hear. 

Kageyama looks at him with a murderous gaze at the same time the crowd erupts, “Together!”

After a few seconds of mumbled strategizing, they both sigh and face the crowd.. 

_I’m a little teapot, short and stout._

_Here is my handle, here is my spout._

_When I get all steamed up hear me shout:_

_Tip me over and pour me out!_

And they both lean over, arms miming the handle and the spout, and the rest of the band claps as they get shooed away to collect their nametags. Hinata manages to hide his embarrassment behind a smile, but Kageyama is staring at the ground. 

Yamaguchi gives a pointed look to Tsukishima across the circle, and the blonde rolls his eyes but dutifully jogs off to catch Kageyama. Yamaguchi does the same with Hinata, catching his arm and telling him where the tag is in his backpack. Hinata sighs in relief and offers him a small smile of thanks. 

A few feet away, Tsukishima ducks away from Kageyama’s fist with a chuckle. The clarinet mutters to himself, running for the sideline. 

What Yamaguchi anticipated to be a scary practice is made better by the comfort of structure and routine. The four drum majors lead them in stretches before they split off into groups again to review marching, just like summer practice. This time they stay amongst their sections, but Yamaguchi is slowly starting to find comfort among the people who were strangers just a week prior. 

A refresher on roll-step in his head and his feet, they move onto the bread and butter of band camp - setting the show. Initially, the section leaders read charts made by Ukai and help place everyone into their respective positions. Yamaguchi gets a peek at the first two, swirling designs that spread out and spiral on the field. 

The chips’ purpose becomes apparent - as his section leader helps him find his first through third sets, he marks each one by stabbing a chip into the ground with a nail through the center, a beacon among the dull green of the grass to show him where to go. Now he understands why some upperclassmen were doodling patterns on theirs - his are rather plain, and don’t stick out much amongst the other chips, but he’ll cross that bridge later if it becomes a problem. 

Then it’s repetition, repetition, repetition, to make his body memorize where he’s supposed to go. He starts on the thirty yard line, twelve steps in front of the back hash, on side two of the field (he doesn’t actually know what side is which, he just remembers it as “Suga’s side”). He finds that he actually doesn’t go straight to his second set - he’s the rightmost point in a diamond with three other band members, and he makes a full rotation around, hitting each point, before he takes off for his second set. It’s difficult for a first set, difficult for a rookie, but he grits his teeth and tells himself he’s going to make it work. 

They run the diamond a dozen times before they get their first extended break. Yamaguchi forces himself to jog to the sideline (no walking on the field, they’d been told repeatedly) before he slows to a walk, his feet already sore from the stress of marching. The mellos reconvene at their spot in the grass to collect their waters, then split in different directions - the rest of the band is mingling amongst friends in other sections. The staff and a few parent volunteers had set up a canopy tent for water coolers and snacks, and a few kids made their way over there as well.

Tsukishima is sitting cross-legged on the sideline, arms draped over his water bottle. Yamaguchi takes one look at his face and grabs two granola bars from the wholesale-sized box under the canopy before making his way over. 

“Hey.”

Tsukishima barely gets time to react before a granola bar is thrown in his face. “What?”

“You didn’t have breakfast and you should probably eat something. It’s hot and we’re doing a lot of work.”

“I’m fine.”

“ _Tsukki.”_

“Ok, ok,” Tsukishima relents to Yamaguchi’s whining. The wrapper crinkles as he fights to free the granola bar from it. Yamaguchi sits beside him, and they both eat in comfortable silence until the whistle gets blown for them to return to the field. 

Practice seems to drag on for hours. He said as much when Daichi catches him as they run off to the sidelines for the last time, asking how his first full rehearsal went. Daichi just laughed. 

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” he said. “It gets quicker and quicker every year.”

Yamaguchi doesn’t complain about it anymore. 

Lunch is less awkward than breakfast, especially with Tsukishima by his side. He looks around the bustling cafeteria as he waits in line and realizes he’s starting to recognize more and more faces. 

Their new group of friends invites them to sit at the table again. This time, Suga and Daichi join them at the table. The returning members greet them joyfully, and Yamaguchi smiles at the wholesome display. 

There’s still two empty seats at the table, Yamaguchi realizes, at the same time that he sees Hinata looking around for a seat. He’s not particularly inclined to invite him over, but Tanaka is much nicer than he is, and the older boy stands to guide Hinata by the shoulders back to sit with them. It’s just Kageyama’s luck that he leaves the buffet line at that moment, because Tanaka calls for him to come sit, too. Kageyama doesn’t realize Hinata’s at the table until it’s too late, and they scoot their chairs as far as possible from each other. 

“You four are all freshmen, have you met?” asks Suga, likely in an intent to lighten the mood. 

“Unfortunately,” mutters Tsukishima under his breath. Kageyama shoots him a glare. 

“What was that?”

“Yeah, we’re rooming together for camp,” Yamaguchi cut in.

Suga grins. “Aw! I wish I could do my freshman band camp over again.” He pokes Daichi in the side with his elbow, and the other boy nearly chokes on his lunch. “Now we’re just old.”

“You still have a year with us!” The way Tanaka says it, it sounds somewhere between an accusation and a threat. The third years all crack up at the same time. 

“We’re not leaving just yet. Still have to put up with us for another year,” Daichi says.

Absently, Yamaguchi wonders if he’ll ever get as close to these people as they are to each other. 

He finishes lunch with a little time left for the break, and leaves the cafeteria to wander the central area of the camp. He’s alone, but it’s not as awkward as he expected it to be - he takes the time to enjoy a moment of peace. 

The center courtyard is rather serene, with small groups, pairs, and individuals scattered around. A girl with short cropped brown hair is playing a ukelele on a small patio, a group of kids singing little bits of pop songs and cartoon themes. Yamaguchi notices Daichi next to her. Another group is playing ball in the Gaga pit - Yamaguchi sees Noya among them, ever dramatic in the way he dodges and slams the ball across the ring, hitting someone (a trumpet, Yamaguchi thinks, he’s starting to put faces and instruments together) in the shins and taking them out of the game. A few kids walk to and from the dorms, some gathered below the small white gazebo, and a handful of frontline percussionists are already rolling their instruments out of storage, setting up for rehearsal. 

Yamaguchi takes a seat on one of the benches outside the cafeteria and is content to people-watch, the breeze flowing lightly through the trees and sounds of happy band campers floating off into the mountains. 

“Is this seat taken?”

Tsukishima walks up to the bench, the ghost of a not-so-smirk on his lips. Yamaguchi is quick to scooch over and make him a spot, patting the bench near him. 

He sighs and takes it. They sit, watching, taking in the sounds and the smells of this small camp up in the hills, and Yamaguchi isn’t sure what propels him to break the bubble of silence around them, but he does. 

“Were you planning to go to the dance tonight, Tsukki?”

Tsukishima turns his head minutely, watching Yamaguchi from the corner of his eye. “Tanaka told me it was mandatory, but that question just confirms my suspicion he was joking.”

Yamaguchi can’t help but snicker. “Yeah, it’s not mandatory. I just know you’re not always up for the social things, especially if they’re extra.”

“I have a feeling Tanaka sensed that also, and that’s why he told me I had to go,” Tsukishima droned monotonously. He sighed again, his head falling back on the bench. “I don’t _mind_ it, I suppose. I just don’t get why I would want to go to an event where I don’t know what’s going on and I don’t know anyone.”

“You know me,” Yamaguchi pointed out, before he could stop himself.

“That’s true.”

“So, would you want to go with me?”

It was halfway out of his mouth when he realized what that sounded like, and his face went red. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, because Tsukki had turned his head to him, eyes narrowed and a cocky grin on his face. 

“Yamaguchi Tadashi, are you asking me to the dance?”

“I’m - I just meant it like, we could hang out together, right? So we both wouldn’t be uncomfortable, and we could still enjoy all of band camp.”

The grin fell, Tsukishima turning his head back to look at the cloudy afternoon sky, and Yamaguchi wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong. 

“Sure.”

It was nearly time for music rehearsal, so they stood up together and walked quietly to collect their instruments and make the walk through the gravel to the amphitheatre. Yamaguchi thinks he might be imagining it, but it feels like Tsukishima is walking just half a step in front of him, instead of side-by-side like always. 

He convinces himself the footbridge that crosses the wash separating the amphitheatre and gravel path only has room for one, and falls behind Tsukishima to walk across it. Then they split, Yamaguchi going to sit with the mellos and Tsukishima going towards the bones.

As everyone makes their way in, three new sheets of music are handed out.

Yamaguchi files them away in order, right after the music for _Arrival of the Birds_. Two sheets are for the next song in their show, _Icarus_ , and the last page is for _Claire de Lune_. 

Once the pages are safely in the clear plastic sheets of his music binder, he looks through both more carefully. _Icarus_ has cues for a tenor soli at the beginning, followed by split sustains for the mellos. Later, they have the countermelody. It doesn’t look especially challenging, but he expects that much of the difficulty will come from the dark chords and harmonies that will echo around the band. He spent the weeks leading up to band camp listening to the song on repeat, and now he can practically hear how the marching band rendition will sound in his head. 

_Claire de Lune_ ’s music is even simpler. Long, sustained notes, stacked chords, and lots of dynamic markings. The difficulty will come from the nuance required for a ballad. There’s a note towards the beginning of the piece, where the mello part starts, and he looks back at it-

_Solo._

There’s a mellophone solo in _Claire de Lune_. 

He turns his head to ask who will play it, but Hinata’s already beat him to it, his head cocked to the side and eyes wide in curiosity.

“We’ll probably have to audition for it,” their section leader shrugs. 

Yamaguchi’s stomach flips. He’d never been the best, in band or in general. He didn’t stick out, and he didn’t try to. He’d never played a solo before. He wasn’t sure what was pushing him towards _this_ one, but something in his gut was already attached, even after staring at the music for just a few minutes. 

Takeda calls them to attention 

“Hi again, everyone! I hope lunch was enjoyable!” There’s hollers from the crowd. “Let’s get to work!”

Daichi and Suga each lead a breathing exercise. Yamaguchi notices that even in just a week of playing and a day of marching, he already feels stronger, surer of himself, every breath deeper and fuller than the last. It’s a good feeling.

Takeda steps back up, inviting them to sit for rehearsal. “As you may have noticed, your section leaders handed out the next two songs. Realistically, we won't get the chance to set either of them during camp, but we’ll start practicing the music, so it’s hopefully memorized - or on its way to being memorized - by the time we get it on the field. Let’s just do a runthrough and see what happens, I’ll stop if we need to. Before we start though, are there any questions?”

Two people speak up at the same time. “Do you want the section leaders to play the solo in _Claire de Lune_?”

The mellophone and baritone section leaders turn to look at each other. Takeda’s eyes flit between them. 

“It’s marked as a solo for each instrument, but it’s a duet,” he says, and the two section leaders nod in understanding. “Yes, I’d like for you two to play until we hold auditions later- and if you need to take it down an octave for now, that’s fine.”

Yamaguchi turns over his shoulder to see his section leader lowering her hand, obvious relief on her face. “Okay.”

Takeda leads them, Daichi and Suga conducting along behind him, their eyes moving between Takeda’s moving hand and the music laid out at their feet. The first run is not awful - they make it about twenty-four bars in, just past the intro, when they’re stopped. Everyone else takes a minute to breathe and review the next part of the music while the tenors struggle to tune. 

Yamaguchi flips the sheet and peeks at the music for _Claire de Lune_. 

He enjoys the rest of practice, because he always enjoys playing - but the whole time, there’s something else sitting at the back of his mind, in the pit of his stomach. Apprehension? Nerves? _Excitement?_ Every time they pause in the music, he looks back at _Claire de Lune_ and stares at the solo. His section leader’s trepidation was warranted, because it goes up to C above the staff, a high note for most any mellophone player but especially a high schooler. He’d never hit an A comfortably, much less a C.

But he’ll learn to, he decides. 

Half of practice is dedicated to the opener, which means they don’t have the time to run through the ballad today. _Icarus_ is already starting to come together, even if it sounds a little empty without the percussion, but Takeda promises they’ll play together with perc before band camp is over. 

When they’re dismissed, Yamaguchi tucks his music binder under his arm and loops his arm through his mellophone, hopping down the stone steps of the amphitheatre. He absently looks for Tsukishima, notices he’s talking to the other trombones, so he bites his lip and makes the walk back to the Tabernacle storage room alone. 

His mellophone gets packed away for the night - mouthpiece wiped out, spit valves emptied, valves oiled in preparation for a full day of playing tomorrow. It almost seems strange to leave it behind - it’s almost grown to feel like it’s attached to him, and something’s missing when he’s not holding it. 

Once he leaves the storage room, percussion is still packing up, so he wanders into the Tabernacle proper to see if he can catch Noya and Tanaka on their way to dinner. 

Noya sees him first, swinging around to wave and nearly knocking over Asahi with the comically large bass drum hanging off his harness. Asahi pleads with him to be careful, if not for the safety of the people in the room, then for the wellbeing of the drums. Noya laughs, loudly. 

“How was music practice?” calls Tanaka from a few steps away, where he’s carefully lifting his harness over his head, a forty-pound set of tenor drums hanging - precariously, if you asked Yamaguchi - off of it. 

“Good,” he answers, “We ran through the second song and cleaned up the opener. What about perc?”

“Did some runthroughs of the first two songs with the metronome, but they’re still a little messy. I always think it’s more fun to play with the winds,” Noya says, his own drum now on the floor as he unhooks his harness. 

“I think we’re playing together tomorrow. It sounds a little empty without perc.”

Tanaka puts the lid on his case, sliding it across the concrete floor to sit with the other tenors. “You seem distracted, Yamaguchi. Oo, is it about the dance?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Did you ask-”

“For the last time, Tanaka, stop making a big deal out of it and scaring the recruits,” Asahi sighs. 

Yamaguchi can’t help but laugh at Tanaka’s pout, then he remembers they’re expecting an answer.

He wonders if it’d be stupid to say what’s actually on his mind. 

“Well, uh, it’s just that there’s a mello solo in _Claire de Lune_. I was… thinking about auditioning.”

There’s a half second of silence, and Yamaguchi expects laughing, or comments about how he’s just a first year, and solos are for upperclassmen -

“Yeah! Go for it!” Noya shouts, and the others are smiling at him too. 

“Auditioning is great practice. Even if you don’t get it, the experience is good for you,” Asahi adds.

“You should do it, show ‘em what you got!” Tanaka pumps his fist in the air. 

Yamaguchi can’t stop smiling as they walk together to dinner. 

Dinner is uneventful. He sits at what seems to be his new table - Suga and Daichi watching as Noya and Tanaka yell about something, Asahi and Ennoshita trying desperately to keep them from breaking anything or each other. Hinata and Kageyama continue to sit with them, and sit next to each other, even as they constantly argue over the most trivial things one can think of. 

Tsukishima even finds his way back to the table, sitting on Yamaguchi’s left. It’s stupid, but Yamaguchi is relieved. 

The cafeteria crowd begins to thin, and Yamaguchi finishes the last of his dinner before excusing himself. Tsukishima follows, having been done with his dinner for some time now and supposedly waiting for Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi doesn’t ask, and Tsukishima doesn’t offer. 

Tsukishima doesn’t say anything except to call dibs on the shower attached to their room. Sweaty and tired as he is, Yamaguchi tells him to go ahead. Tsukishima would let him go first if he asked, and he knew that, but Yamaguchi doesn’t care much. Tsukki will probably take a quick shower, change into his pajamas, and shut in for the rest of the night, opting for an early bedtime before their early morning.

He finds he is sorely mistaken when Tsukishima emerges from the bathroom in grey skinny jeans and a black band tee, his hair still slightly damp and sticking to his head. 

“What are you gaping at?” he demands, wiping off his glasses on his shirt and placing them carefully back on the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m not!” Yamaguchi sputters, defensive. “I just didn’t expect you to… dress up.”

Tsukishima just shrugs, picking a sweatshirt and his converse out of his duffel bag. 

He’s sitting on his bed and reading something on his phone when Yamaguchi returns, now clean and also dressed in the single pair of jeans he brought and a t-shirt. 

“Ready?” Tsukishima asks. Outside, Yamaguchi can hear the sounds of other band kids milling about, waiting for the party to start. 

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

The dance isn’t what he expected. It’s better. 

There’s a modest table of snacks set up at the entrance to the Tabernacle, dutifully manned by the guard coach and two techs. The lights are already off in the tabernacle, a good old-fashioned disco ball spinning on the stage, and the DJ was already playing something fun and bouncy that Yamaguchi half-recognized from the radio. 

Kageyama and Hinata are already on the dance floor. Kageyama doesn’t look _uncomfortable,_ per se, he just looks like no one told him dancing means you _move._ Hinata’s jumping up and down like he’s at a rave, and maybe in his head he is. 

He’s almost _surprised_ to see Suga dragging Daichi out to the dance floor, screaming to make sure his singing along can be heard over the bass. Tanaka and Noya are close behind, each giving Tsukishima and Yamaguchi a smack on the back as they pass. Ennoshita pauses to make small talk with them, until he’s caught by two second-year frontline kids and smiles apologetically as he’s pulled away. 

Asahi hangs by the snack table, polishing off a handful of pretzels and talking to two guard girls - one is Kiyoko, the captain, Yamaguchi recognizes, and the other is the timid first-year he keeps seeing around. He really should introduce himself. 

But before he does, he turns to Tsukishima, who’s been standing by his side as they take it all in. He almost expects Tsukishima to make the first move - to invite him to dance, or suggest they get snacks, or even opt for a seat outside, where they can still hear the music but it’s not ever present, pounding in their heads. 

Instead, Tsukishima stays silent, meeting his gaze for a moment before he looks away, and Yamaguchi is the one who says, “Wanna dance?”

Tsukishima lights up. Tsukishima, who’s stoic most of the time and snarky at best, lights up when Yamaguchi says those two words and almost even _smiles_ and Yamaguchi wishes he could bottle up the feeling in his ribs for a rainy day. 

Neither of them really know how to dance, but luckily none of their friends do either, and they opt for whirling around in a mess of laughter and limbs until the _Cupid Shuffle_ and the _Cha Cha Slide_ tell them what to do.

Before he came to high school, Yamaguchi had worried about seeming immature to his peers. He wanted to grow up, but he didn’t want to do it too fast. He just feared being the one who got put down by the cool kids. 

Turns out, when you’re in band, doing the _Cupid Shuffle_ with a hundred and twenty of your newest friends will make you as cool as anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we now have playlists!!  
> [out of step: the vibes](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7bOLmXeJdj10IlOsQB7zWG?si=PC9BkrXqQoC3Ik_dh8nfWg) is what's on the tin, it's what i listen to when i'm writing  
> [out of step: act 1](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2OMemOXhEzGsQ9HdoR6pqY?si=mtmR9aGwS46zm68-XpR5xA) has a) the show (so you can listen to it in order!) b) packet songs (most of them shamelessly from my college band packet playlist) and c) songs that go with the story so far  
> i also listened to the "top songs of 2012" playlist on spotify when i was writing all the dance stuff and i'd highly recommend. god 2012 had some bangers. they were absolutely listening to titanium and starships and gangam style at the dance.
> 
> if you want More marching band au content, there's a short [bokuaka sidestory](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276321) to this that i posted a few weeks ago (and more sidestories in the works, oops) i also started making marching band au stuff on my tiktok (@petalbridges) (i played my flute in asahi cos, what more do you want)
> 
> thank you for reading!!!


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